


This is Our Last Goodbye

by GingerLyoness



Category: The Hour
Genre: Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Mother-Son Relationship, saying goodbye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:14:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerLyoness/pseuds/GingerLyoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lix has a terminal illness, and asks Freddie to be with her in her final moments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Our Last Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> An anonymous person sent me a prompt on tumblr for the fic war, which said 'Lix has a terminal illness and asks Freddie to be there in her last moments'. I came as close to it as I could, because I didn't really know how to write her dying without going incredibly sappy. Hope you 'enjoy' it!

It had been four months since she had been diagnosed with it. With her being forced to take time off of work for recovery after the operation, Lix had been spending her time at home, most often alone with only a bottle of whiskey and cigarettes for company. They had told her off for smoking, but who was she to go along with the rules?

It was inevitably going to kill her, after the surgery had failed. They had told her that it was unlikely to work anyway, but had given her the drugs she had needed until ‘the end’ as she called it, much to her friends’ disdain. She would only chuckle, and say, ‘I’m not afraid of dying. I am old, and I’ve had my fun.’

As the days seemed to fade together, she would receive the occasional visit from those at ‘The Hour’, but none of them really knew what to say or do. Knowing how to speak to a dying woman was always going to be difficult, no matter how close you were to them. Marnie would make frequent visits with the Madden’s first child, bringing with her home made cakes, knowing the older woman didn’t excel in the cooking department. Pamela would sit on Lix’s knee, and she would tell her stories of Spain and the wide world that she would ‘have to explore for herself’.

Her condition began to deteriorate, she had seen it coming. The doctors recommended she spend her final weeks doing what she wanted to do, and to spend the time she had wisely. She thought it sounded incredibly depressing, but she had told herself that it was going to happen, and nothing would stop it now. Yes, she wished she could go back to normal, her old life of working on the foreign affairs desk, doing the job she loved. But that was gone now, in the past. And she couldn’t go back to it now, however much she pestered them.

On a particularly miserable, grey day in mid-March, she decided to pick up the phone, calling the one person she had seen much less of than she would have liked. Chuckling slightly to herself, she dialled the number, waiting to hear the voice of her darling boy on the other end, her honorary son that she had never had. He was the closest thing she had to family now, and she didn’t want to waste the time she could use to spend in the company of good friends.

“Hello?” a groggy sounding voice came from the other end, the sound of typewriters and telephones permeating the line.

“Darling, don’t sound so low, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Lix!” the surprised reply came, “I- sorry, things aren’t going to well, here.”

“So it would seem,” she sighed, “now, if you aren’t preoccupied this evening, I would appreciate it if I could have some company – the lack of it has become rather tedious, lately.”

“No, no! I’ll come straight from work,” he told her, “sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got a story to write, and it’s taken me quite a while already, so-”

“Go on, sweetheart, I won’t hold you up any more. I’ll see you later,” she told him, before putting the phone back in the holder.

Four hours later, and the bell of her flat buzzed loudly, “coming,” she called, smiling at the thought of the company she had so missed.

“Ah, there you are,” she teased, pulling the door wide to let him enter, “thought you’d never get here.”

He chuckled softly, “well, I came as quickly as I could,” he replied, sounding less like his usual self than he did on the phone. He threw himself onto the sofa, sighing as he leant back into the cushions, a tired expression on his face.

“Working you hard, are they?” she asked, pouring them both a tumbler of whiskey before sitting next to him, not with the same vigour as he by many miles. He nodded, taking the tumbler gratefully before taking a sip.

“As always – though this show’s proving to be a difficult one,” he informed her, “so many different things in one slot, it’s all getting very confusing. There were points today where I thought I’d never finish the damn thing.”

“But you always do,” she told him, taking a long sip of the amber liquid, relishing the burn as it made its way down her throat, “always the most brilliant one in the team, if I recall.”

“Oh, really? Someone did call me a pretentious bastard the other day,” he raised an eyebrow comically, twisting in his seat to look at her directly rather than at his lap.

“Then they would be perfectly correct in saying so,” she replied, chuckling at his mock-hurt expression, “but there is much more to you than that, believe me, I know,” she smiled fondly.”

“How, O wise one?” he teased, shaking his head as he laughed.

“Because I’ve known you for quite a long time now, and I’ve seen you grow from a boy into a great journalist,” she told him, her expression sincere, “look how far you’ve come from working in that dingy little basement for barely anything worth calling a wage.”

“Well, I’ll never be as great as some,” he replied, looking pointedly at her, “you’ve got a lot on me, that’s for sure.”

“Now, now, darling,” she smiled, “no need for flattery.”

“The truth is something you don’t have to lie about,” he replied, “because you are brilliant, Lix,” he paused, looking down as his eyes began to well up with tears. He hadn’t thought about it before, but in reality, he was about to lose the woman he associated as his second mother, a role model and above all a friend. And he hadn’t realised just how much it hurt.

Lix remained silent, putting an arm around him to pull him close to her, his head resting gently on her shoulder, “stop it, or you’ll make me start,” she teased, not being able to disguise the wobble in her voice as she followed his lead, leaning her head against his as they held each other close.

“I miss you already,” he murmured, his voice thick with the tears as he choked out a raw sob, “why does it have to happen to you? You’ve never done anything to deserve it.”

“Sweetheart, it’s nothing that either of us can help,” she replied, “we’ll just have to get on with it and deal with the consequences, won’t we?” she sighed, taking a deep breath to control the shake in her voice, “and you remember, just because I have to leave now, doesn’t mean I won’t always be with you. Because you’re my beautiful boy, and don’t you forget it,” he words were sincere and straight to the point.

As the sky became steadily darker, mother and son stayed in their position on her raggedy old sofa, a kiss pressed to his temple as the tears subsided, contenting themselves with each others’ company for what would be the last time.

 

 


End file.
